


Some People Like Raw Cookie Dough

by gala_apples



Series: An Alphabet of Teen Wolf Crossovers [9]
Category: Jossverse, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Polyamory, Post-Series, Rescue, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2248287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy's not sure why the newest baby Slayer is stationary in a bank in Beacon Hills, but Willow says going to get her is an emergency, so off they go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some People Like Raw Cookie Dough

**Author's Note:**

> Ran with the idea that hecatolite hits born werewolves harder than turned werewolves. The only change to BTVS canon is that it's not 2003.

Buffy doesn’t think about it right away. A tremendous amount of shit has gone down in the last few days and while at this point she’s pretty battle hardened, she’s not at the point of begging the next wave of problems while the current set is still crashing in on her knees. Maybe in ten years, if she’s the oldest Slayer to ever live, she’ll be like that; a problem solving adrenaline junkie. But today Xander’s still half blind, and Anya and Spike are dead, and shockingly enough cash wasn’t the thing every Potential made sure to hold onto when running towards the Hellmouth, so now that there’s twenty of them trying to make it to Cleveland, they don’t have enough money to rent hotel rooms.

Still, Buffy is who she is, and it’s only a day or two until it occurs to her. The only thing genuinely surprising is that Andrew or Dawn didn’t think of it first. But Andrew’s stewing in guilt that Buffy doesn’t have the right to tell him to feel or not feel, Dawn’s helping Xander, and Willow and Kennedy are using every minute to prove to each other they’re not dead.

In fact, their hands are suspiciously under a blanket purchased at Dollarama when Buffy clomps to their seat. By this point it is Willow and Kennedy’s seat. Just like in high school, seats aren’t assigned, but when you sit in the same place every day people’s subconscious recognise it as claimed anyway.

“Yeah, Buff?”

“Before we get all the way into Nevada, do you think you could scry for anyone in California that we need to pick up?”

Willow makes a face. “I dunno. I’m still pretty wiped. But I can try.”

Buffy puts her hand on Willow’s shoulder for a second. She knows how tired Willow gets healing someone, and Robin’s gut wound was probably no easier than the time she was skinned. It must be harder to meditate yourself to full strength on a moving bus than it is in your best friend’s bed. Buffy can’t offer Willow any advice she doesn’t already know, the hazards of having the same Watcher-mentor. But she can be practical. “Do we need to pull over?”

“Unless Faith starts driving over a million potholes, I’ll deal.”

Willow approaches her at the next fast food break. Buffy’s getting mighty sick of Burger King, but at least it’s not Double Meat Palace. Her beef will be one hundred percent _beef_ , thanks. The girls are scattered all over the restaurant, unwilling to be cooped up in the bus for a minute longer than they have to be. Buffy is sitting alone, but Xander and Dawn are visible and that’s about all Buffy needs anymore. Well, and Willow, who’s sliding into the opposite side of the hard plastic booth.

“There’s one girl. I mean there’s more, I’m sure, but when I did a sort of mental ‘You Hooo’, only one really needed help. She basically screamed and jumped up and down. And lasers. There were lots of mental lasers.”

“What part of California?” It’s a big state, after all. She’ll back track if she has to, but Buffy can hope it’s easier than that.

“A small town, called Beacon Hills.”

***

Willow directing Faith to stop in front of a bank is a bit weird, but it’s not like the tracker spells are often wrong. Especially not now that the resident witch can go all white-hair-pure-good-Willow. Half the girls want to go in, antsy for more action than sparring in a parking lot. Buffy picks Rona -stays calm in tight situations- and Leslie -high level of snark, and some people need that- to go with her. It’s hard to imagine a situation too heavy for three full strength Slayers to control, but the last thing Leslie says before they leave the bus is that she’ll text if they need help.

“So this is abandoned and creepy.”

“What was your first hint, all the glass covered with torn black paper, the graffiti, or the padlock on the door?”

Buffy ignores them both, as is her right as eldest Slayer, and instead reaches out and yanks on the padlock. It breaks, of course. Not a lot of things don’t break, if she’s insistent about it.

The inside of the bank almost looks better than the outside. It’s still abandoned, so all the lights are off and it’s dusty, but when compared to checking out the Initiative bunker three years later, it’s really not bad. For one, there are no random withered corpses laying in the middle of the hallway. For another, Beacon Hills First National doesn’t give her bitter nostalgia about (almost) normal boyfriends.

They wander until the come upon the first sign of life. There are voices on the other side of a thick vault door. Three, at least.

“If you’re criminals we don’t care, but if there’s a newly badass girl in there we need to know,” Leslie shouts. Not entirely correct, Buffy will totally kick a human thief's ass, but points for effort.

“Open the door! Let us out!” A female voice shouts back.

“It’s a vault door, it doesn’t just open!”

“Fuck! Please! Something!”

Buffy can hear real desperation in the girl’s voice. It’s something she’s always hated. Even the sexual kind that Faith seems to thrive on bothers her.

The door is probably a foot of metal, if random bank robbery episodes of procedural dramas have taught her anything. The walls though... They’re just walls. Buffy looks at Rona and Leslie for only a moment. She already knows that their weapons are small and easily hidden, stakes and daggers, no Troll hammers or axes. She doesn’t have anything relevant on her either. Which leaves Buffy to grab the nearest fire extinguisher and start wailing on the wall with it. Each hit, much stronger than a normal person could make, dents the wall a bit more.

Buffy doesn’t have the chance to make it person sized. As soon as there’s a hole that goes all the way through, Rona nudges her out of the way to peer in. “Hey guys. You don’t gotta panic, we’ll have you out in a minute.”

The thing is, it’s possible that someone locked them in a vault in an abandoned building on a mostly foreclosed street for a reason. She doesn’t know _why_ yet, but it’s not like they’ll just cop to it, if there is. Supernatural nastiness and honesty don’t tend to go hand in hand. So Buffy bashes a hole just large enough to climb through herself, and instructs Rona to stand outside the hole and Leslie to stay halfway down the hall. If they incapacitate her, there are still two points they’ll have to get past.

In the vault are three teenagers. A black boy -obviously out of the running- and a blonde girl both look unsettled. Restless. The brunette girl looks like she’s dying. Buffy isn’t immediately sure which one is the Slayer. If she was alone she’d be able to tell if another Slayer was with her, but with Rona and Leslie so close that particular prickly awareness is useless. The other one, the mental demon alert siren, is blaring, so at least one of the two who aren’t the Slayer are ...something. 

“Look. We were going to get you out, and then talk to one of you girls about something, but you don’t look good. Do we need to call 911?” Buffy asks with a pointed look at the slumped girl.

The black boy shakes his head. “No. We’re just weak. Allergic to what’s in the walls. She’s different than us, it hit her first. We’ll be okay when we get out.”

“How did you find us here?” the blonde asks. “We have people who would look for us and they haven’t. What makes you special?”

The lone boy frowns. “Are you even with Derek?”

“Who else could they be? Bank robbers?” First rolling her eyes, the girl turns serious as she starts addressing Buffy and not her friend. “Hey. If you _are_ bank robbers, I’ll say this now in gratitude for getting us the fuck out. You really don’t want to shoot us. It will not end well for you.”

Buffy refrains from saying the same thing goes for her. And while she’s not stupid enough to immediately trust them, the fact that they’re admitting to bad reactions to hostile actions lowers her guard slightly. _We fight back if you wanna fight_ is a lot better than _smile, smile, totally innocent, BAM stab in the back_.

“We found you through magic. One of you is destined to be a vampire Slayer.”

“Yeah, about that,” Rona says, leaning in through the small hole to whisper in her ear. “I texted Willow. She’s going to send in a quick tracker spark to show us which girl is, you know.”

The gold spark is there three seconds later, in front of the blonde. Buffy’s not surprised. She doesn’t shame those not in peak physical condition. And if she maybe once did, she really can’t now that Xander only has one eye. But allergies shouldn’t take down a Slayer hard enough that she needs to be propped up against the wall to sit. And she’s definitely been propped, it’s not just normal lounging. Buffy’s spent the last weeks with the infirm, she knows from propped up.

“So me then. Huh.”

“You seem very calm about this,” Leslie says from the hole, beside Rona. Ugh, she is totally ignoring Buffy’s quickly thought up but fairly decent stratagem in case of supernatural baddies. And okay, maybe it’s not needed, probably, but you can’t just ignore orders! Buffy’s totally gonna chew her out when they have a moment alone later.

The blonde ignores Leslie completely, instead turning back to the male. “You take Cora to Derek. I think I have to go with them. For now, I mean. Tell Derek I’m not running away. I’m _not_.”

“If you don’t get information about this it’s going to bite us in the ass, eventually.”

“Exactly.”

She darts in to kiss the boy, Slayer speed already in use, even if she didn’t know to use Slayer strength to break down the wall. From there it’s a matter of getting the girl up and out of the chest high hole when it’s obvious she can’t heave herself up. By the time Buffy’s climbing out, last of course, both the guy and Cora are nowhere to be seen. 

The bus doors are cranked open, and Dawn meets them on the bus stairs. From what Buffy can tell, no one else has gotten up. Good on Faith or Giles or whomever for keeping the ‘we might need to quickly flee’ discipline. Aimless wandering doesn’t help rapid fleeing.

Dawn waves her arm in a dorky rainbow arc. “Hello new Slayer!”

“It’s Erica,” the blonde replies as Rona and Leslie slip past them both to go back to their customary seats.

“I’m Dawn. A non-Slayer, but we’re good for stuff too. So’s Andrew, Xander, Giles, and Robin.”

Two of the four mentioned smile at Erica as she enters the bus. She smiles back in a way that says she’s used to older guys being a little too interested in her, and she knows how to use it. If nothing else, Buffy will show her how a broken nose is a good way to solve that kind of problem. That being said, how to break out of places kidnappers??? have stuck you is seemingly another lesson she needs.

“Huh. So no boys allowed.”

Erica doesn’t phrase it as a question but Dawn answers anyway. “It’s kind of a thing. In ancient days a bunch of old men cursed one girl to have to fight all the demons. We sort of edited the spell.”

“So that there’s a bunch, I’m guessing. So this is your army. You have an army of all powerful leaders when there should be just one.”

Buffy’s about to protest because there’s only about twenty of them on the bus, and half are injured, but she doesn’t get the chance. Erica kind of freaks out. She collapses onto the grooved black floor and starts laughing. It’s a different shade of crazy than mute catatonic Andrew, but probably no better. Buffy looks at Willow, who shrugs. Buffy gets that yeah, Willow told her Erica really needed to get out of her situation, but if she’s broken what’s she supposed to do?

The nearest body to Erica is Karen. She reaches into the aisle to rub the blonde’s back, only for Erica to flinch away hard enough her side hits the other seat.

“How about someone who couldn’t easily kill me touch me?”

Buffy’s not sure what surprises her more in the next five seconds; Faith taking that as a cue to start driving, or Robin hobbling to her to sit on the floor. No one’s even pretending to not watch at this point. They’re all a little short on distractions, school buses don’t have in-transit entertainment like planes.

Robin lifts up his shirt to show her the mess of bandages. They’d be distressing, if Buffy were fourteen. She wonders if Erica has the kind of life where an injured stranger matters to her. “I got stabbed. I’m coming on too strong, you punch me. Guaranteed I’ll stop, because I’ll probably be puking blood.”

Erica laughs again, but it’s different. It’s not hysteria, it’s a snort. Buffy only has a second to worry that they’ve picked up a sociopath who was imprisoned in an abandoned building with unknown supernatural creatures for a reason before she explains. “Man, I forgot how awesome and ballsy humans are.”

“We try,” Xander quips. “Not been around humans for a while?”

“I don’t know if you had to kill your way in or what, but me and Boyd and Cora were kidnapped by an Alpha Pack, if you didn’t see them. Otherwise known as a big group of werewolves with powers they didn’t earn, but got by killing and torturing everything that stood in their way, so they could each be the one and only Alpha leader.”

Okay, and now that hysteria makes sense.

Cue the new Slayers jumping on the explanation train. Buffy’s almost grateful for Andrew’s catatonia; he’d be ridiculous with the ‘Slayer of the Vampyre’ schick right now.

“We don’t torture vampires, we just kill them.”

“And only if they deserve it.”

“Spike helped us train, but we killed the Turok-Han because they were helping the First Evil start the apocalypse.”

“Apoc-” Erica cuts herself off with something she obviously considers more important. _Than the apocalypse_. Tough girl. “Were?”

“We killed them all.”

“The ones that we didn’t, Spike did.”

“He immolated himself and burned them all.”

She’s prickly again. “So you needed another supernatural girl to do self-sacrifice just in case? Because I’m not doing that, at least not for you. Maybe for them. Maybe.”

Buffy wonders if _them_ is just Cora and Boyd, or if there are others Erica would sacrifice herself for. Wonders what it says about her that she assumes Boyd and Cora do mean that to Erica. For all that Buffy’s life has been difficult, at least she has people that mean that much to her that sacrifice seems like second nature. Kendra didn’t.

“We’re all supernatural. We’re all mystically called Slayers.”

Erica rolls her eyes at Vi. “No, not that. Look, you get that I’m a werewolf, right?”

Yeah, there’s no one in this bus that got that. Buffy didn’t even know it was possible to be a Slayer and a monster. Giles is rubbing his glasses on his sleeve, which could mean so many things, Buffy can’t guess. She’ll be talking to him the next time she can without Erica overhearing, that’s for sure. But while she doesn’t know what to say, and Kennedy and Willow are having a whispered conversation, the newb Slayers all pitch in for the third time, pointing when needed.

“His ex-fiance was a demon.”

“Her boyfriend was a vampire, and there was another before that.”

“And we met a really nice gambler demon named Clem.”

Xander shakes his head at the new Slayers. “You’re all missing the most relevant. Willow’s actual boyfriend was a werewolf.”

Kennedy and Willow’s conversation gets very loud for about three syllables, and then it’s perfect silence from that direction, so Buffy has to assume there’s a personal bubble spell in play.

Erica rolls her eyes, presumably at them all, even though it looks like she’s looking at Robin in front of her. “The point is, I’m here if you want to teach me how to take out evil vamps, because none of us want to be beholden to Allison fucking Argent and her Bestiary should a vamp pack ever come. I’m not here if you’re looking for a non-human to throw herself under the bus.”

“You’re a Slayer. We’ll teach you how to slay.”

***

“So guys? I’ve made three random turns in the last fifteen minutes. The car behind us is definitely following us. I’m gonna pull over and deal with this, if you’re all ready for what might go down, okay?”

Considering every single once-Potential is straining backwards to try to see the car in question, Buffy thinks they’re ready.

Then Erica stands. “It’s a Camaro. Stop the bus right now!”

“Vintage aficionado?” Xander jokes. Erica doesn’t answer, she’s already at the stairs of the bus, waiting for Faith to pull over.

Sooner rather than later there’s a Walmart. Faith parks at the edge of the lot where no customer would even voluntarily park. Unsurprisingly the black car pulls into the lot behind him. The second Faith opens the door Erica is bolting towards the car. It’s a split into factions then. Some of the group spies by getting close to the bus windows they opened in anticipation. Some of the group spies by pretending they need to stretch their legs and exiting the bus. Some of them tell the people with a better vantage point to do a commentary. Then there’s the rare few not looking for gossip. Buffy’s category B. She rushes off the bus to observe.

“Oh my God! Isaac!”

Erica throws herself onto the curly haired boy. He staggers one step before rebalancing against her force.

“Boyd and Cora said you weren’t dead, but I had to-”

“I know. I wish I could have come, but this was sort of a once in a lifetime training opportunity.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I didn’t have to verify. I had to touch you, okay?”

With no warning at all Isaac is kissing Erica. Buffy’d be a little confused about it since Erica and Boyd seemed close in the bank vault, except Boyd’s leaning against the car watching, which makes it a lot confusing. _Oh my god we’re alive_ cheating, fine, it’s not like various Scoobies haven’t gone there. But while the actual boyfriend is known to be present? What the hell?

“There’s a lot of teenage girls watching us,” Isaac says after at least five minutes of messy kissing.

“Yeah. Vampire specific hunters are like ninety five percent girls. There’s magic involved and-”

“Not what I meant. There’s a bunch of teenage girls watching us.” The emphasis of words is different this time, and Erica seems to get him the second time through.

“School buses don’t have tvs, and they didn’t grab their iPods when their entire town plummeted into a sinkhole. We're hot.” Erica smirks.

“So you’re obviously-” Isaac cuts himself off and turns to Boyd, who’s still calmly lounging against the car door. “You’re okay with this?”

Boyd shrugs. Isaac heaves a dramatic sigh then walks forward a couple feet to address the stretching baby Slayers. “The three of us are getting into the car to make out a lot. Maybe other stuff. If you have to keep watching to make sure we don’t drive away with her, fine. But anyone who doesn’t like porn should get back on the bus.”

“Dude, this is a parking lot.”

Isaac lifts his eyebrows. It’s kind of funny how a portion of an inch’s difference in expression turns him from sweet and pettable to completely bitchy. Not every guy’s face can do that. “Yeah, and I haven’t seen half my Pack for two months. Trust me, doing it in the car instead of on the ground where we have space is a lot of restraint.”

“Everyone on the bus!” Buffy snaps.

Once all the girls are herded back in she demands Willow make a blackout spell. The windows go dark and Buffy can breathe again.

“What’s going on?” Robin asks. Over the last few days he’s taken sort of a liking to Erica. He probably doesn’t like the idea of them kidnapping her back home, like Isaac said.

Buffy isn’t sure what to say -she’s fine with doom or violence but sex is difficult- but Sheena has no such problem. “The three of them are gonna do it. In the car, not on the asphalt, as a courtesy to us. Because they’re Pack and they have to. Was your boyfriend that horny and intense?”

Willow blushes and makes sort of a meeping noise, so it’s up to Xander to start on about how intense Oz was not. Meanwhile Buffy’s left to sink into her seat and wonder how she’s going to regulate this. So far the only new Slayer with a relationship has been Kennedy, and since the Warren thing Willow’s been slow to heat. She has the feeling Erica’s not going to be the same way.

***

It’s been a few days since Boyd and Isaac started driving behind them. Closer to a week, actually. With Rosa and Maria both picked up, and Dawn frustratingly silent about an older-younger sister Slayer duo, Buffy finally has the time to approach Erica. And the space, because the Lopez family was loaded and interested enough to give them a cheque with multiple zeros for Slayer needs, and right now that means motel rooms. Four girls to a room is downright luxurious compared to recent accommodations.

Buffy takes a quick look around the entire room -empty empty empty, even the adjoining bathroom- before sitting on the edge of the bed that Erica’s already flopped back down on. The mattress is old and broken, it curves under her slight weight. “You haven’t snuck in Isaac and Boyd.”

“They had to head back this morning. Derek needed them.”

“That’s your Pack leader, right?”

“Yeah, sort of. Mostly. Peter knows more, but he’s a sleaze, and Stiles listens to Scott more than Derek, and Lydia’s mostly waiting for Allison to come back, which is bullshit but humans stick together, so.”

Buffy wants to ask why Derek didn’t order her back, but she’s here, so that’s what counts. Having Erica in their band is a little like having Spike; the girls have vicious supernatural strength to fight in a form that won’t kill them. “You’ll be okay without your Pack?”

“They bought me a cell phone. Stiles has already texted me like fifty times.” Erica jiggles an old flip phone that Buffy hadn’t even noticed was in her hand until now. She’s holding the cell awfully tightly for someone who’s talking dismissively about the people on the other side of it.

“But the...intimacy?” Buffy hates talking like this in front of teenagers. A girl Dawn’s age shouldn’t be having werewolf orgies. But Erica’s different from Oz. She can choose to change, and her full moon only lasts one night, not three, and her senses are stronger. If the weakness in her variant is the need for puppy piles, Buffy will deal.

“I’ll miss them, but I’ll deal. I haven’t even seen a vampire yet, never mind turned it to dust. Can’t go now.”

“Will the others be showing up for...”

“For?” Erica prompts into the silence, sitting up as she does so. Her look is very Faith, tight and accentuating. Just from the way her hem goes before she tugs it, Buffy can academically understand why all her Pack would like her that way.

“For their turn?”

“Their turn what?”

“Being...intimate,” Buffy repeats. It’s times like these that she’d kill to have Anya still alive. Anya didn’t give a hoot about TMI.

Erica frowns for a second, confused and probably smelling Buffy’s embarrassment, before she laughs. “I’m not sleeping with the whole Pack! Packs don’t- The whole Pack isn’t sleeping with the whole Pack, okay. Derek and Cora are siblings. And Scott and Lydia are insistent on Allison being part of us, but she stabbed Isaac so there’s no way I’d have sex with her! Stiles would probably sleep with everyone, but he’s Stiles.”

“So you just can’t make up your mind?” She gets that, oh man does she.

Erica makes a face at her. “I’d be pissed you think that’s what poly is, except Dawn told me about Spike and Angel so I know you’re all fucked up. You ever consider doing them both?”

“Angel and Spike hated each other.”

“Yeah, and from what I heard it was a Derek Stiles hate, all hilariously antagonistic, not a Derek Kate hate. That’s a legit I will murder you the next time I see you hate, by the way.”

Cookie dough speech aside, Buffy has maybe once or twice thought about it. A best of both worlds sort of thing, Angel adoring her and Spike actually listening to her. But her saddest dreamland thinking doesn’t matter now in the grim face of reality, now does it.

“You should double check that he’s really dead.”

“Excuse me?” It’s not a _what did you say I didn’t hear you_ excuse me. Considering Erica’s about a foot away, that would be some pretty strong degradation of Slayer senses. It’s a _the hell did you just say_ excuse me, because what the hell?

“One of the ex-potentials said when Spike died his necklace disappeared. You should find it. Or get Willow to check the cosmos, or whatever she does with the gold ball of magic that found me.” Erica flails her hands a little to simulate magic, because of course she wasn’t around when Tara and Willow convinced Xander to take their craft a little more seriously.

“He’s.” Buffy coughs weakly to get control of her voice. “He was a vampire. He turned to ash. There’s nothing for her to find.”

“Well, in my Pack, Derek and Stiles killed Derek’s uncle. Don’t make a face, they had to. It was a whole thing. And it’s kind of like Slaying, because you don’t get Alpha powers until the last Alpha is dead. And Derek did power up, so Peter was for sure dead. But a few months later he psychically controlled a human friend of our into resurrecting him, and now he’s happier than ever. Not the Alpha, I guess that was the price to pay, but alive. Spike’s a vampire, he’s been around for a few hundred years. I bet he’s got some tricks.”

Erica topples back over, piece said. The entire flimsy mattress rolls with the movement like it’s a waterbed. Buffy gets up and leaves the werewolf girl to text. She has her own things to do. She needs to plan their next move with Giles and Robin and Willow. She needs to figure out where everyone’s going to eat tonight. She needs to beat the crap out of something until her knuckles split, so she stops being so suddenly desperately hopeful about something Erica likely knows nothing about. It’s not like the girl’s ever seen a Urn of Osiris.

***

Spike is alive. He’s incorporeal, but he’s alive, and stuck at the branch of Wolfram and Hart that Angel Investigations now owns.

Buffy has no idea what to do with this information. How much is that supposed to change things, change what her current mission is, when there are still hundreds of baby Slayers who have no idea why monsters are suddenly attacking them after choir practice? But maybe she’ll send a fruit basket to Isaac and Boyd, for making Erica so happy about her own threesome that she’s personally invested in others having them. If it wasn’t for her, for them, Buffy wouldn’t know that maybe she doesn’t have to wait until she’s fully baked and cooled to have what she wants.


End file.
